The Lincoln Town Car. For many, the name itself evokes a sense of classic American luxury, a bygone era of spacious sedans and comfortable road trips. Taylor Johnson’s poem, inspired by Deana Lawson’s photograph “Trap Car,” uses the Lincoln Town Car as a powerful symbol, not just of transportation, but of family, memory, and the unspoken language of generations. This poem takes us on a journey that is both physical and deeply personal, exploring themes of communication, landscape, and the intricate bonds of family through the lens of this iconic vehicle.
The Lincoln Town Car as a Vessel of Family Travel and Unspoken Bonds
Johnson’s poem immediately places us in the intimate space of the Lincoln Town Car’s front seat, shared with family. “All of us, clean-shirted, in the front seat of the Lincoln Town Car,” the poem states, highlighting a ritual of preparation and togetherness before a journey. The detail of “maroon leather” adds a tactile sense of the car’s interior, grounding the abstract themes in concrete sensory experience. The phrase “six-legged in the front seat” creates a slightly surreal, almost dreamlike image of family closeness, emphasizing the shared experience within the car’s confines. This Lincoln Town Car is not just a mode of transport; it’s a shared space where family dynamics play out, where “humid thought” and unspoken understandings are “pressed” together like the occupants themselves.
Landscape and Sensory Details: A Journey Through the Southern United States
The poem masterfully uses the journey in the Lincoln Town Car to evoke the American South. The landscape unfolds through the windshield: “Sorghum and corn and soy— collapsing as the wind fell, listening for light.” This imagery paints a vivid picture of the rural South, the agricultural heartland passing by as the car moves forward. The speaker’s senses are heightened, listening for “muscadines swelling in the ditches” and the changing soundscape as they approach the city: “I listened to the quiet narrow as we entered the city.” The Lincoln Town Car becomes a frame through which the changing landscape is observed and experienced, connecting the personal journey to the broader geographical context. The contrast between the rural “sorghum and corn” and the “city” suggests a movement from a familiar, perhaps slower-paced world to a different environment, all within the contained space of the car.
Unspoken Language and Generational Connection within the Town Car
A central theme of the poem is the unspoken language within the family, particularly between the speaker and their grandparents. “I loved the language my grandparents spoke: saying nothing, holding both my hands,” the poem reveals. This “language” is not verbal but emotional, a connection built on shared experiences and silent understanding. The Lincoln Town Car journey becomes a backdrop for this silent communication. The grandfather’s actions – “shifted in his seat at the wheel, practicing owning something” – and the grandmother’s distant gaze – “stared out the windshield and into the hills, saying That man, That man” – are presented as fragments of a narrative that remains largely unspoken. The speaker, positioned as “the last let into the kingdom of their distance,” observes these interactions, sensing an unspoken history and a connection that is both profound and elusive. The Lincoln Town Car journey is thus not just a physical movement but a journey into the heart of family dynamics and the complexities of intergenerational relationships.
Conclusion: The Enduring Image of the Lincoln Town Car in Memory
Through vivid imagery and sensory detail, Taylor Johnson’s poem transforms the Lincoln Town Car into more than just a car. It becomes a symbol of family history, a container for shared memories, and a vehicle for exploring the unspoken language of love and connection. The poem leaves us with a lasting impression of the Lincoln Town Car as a space where personal journeys and family narratives intertwine, resonating with anyone who has experienced the unique intimacy and reflective moments that car rides can hold. The “lonely as a dog with the whole world inside” feeling, connected to counting pines from the car, encapsulates the introspective journey facilitated by the Lincoln Town Car, making it a powerful emblem of personal and familial reflection.
